


To the Highest Bidder

by anonymousdaredevils



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Captivity, Gen, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousdaredevils/pseuds/anonymousdaredevils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Devil of Hell's Kitchen is captured by human traffickers and put up for auction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Highest Bidder

**Author's Note:**

> Mini-Fill for [ this prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/1742.html?thread=2958542#cmt2958542) on the kinkmeme.

"This is not my usual practice," he says, words curdling as they find air, ugly, shameful things.

"But you like it," Vanessa states. Wilson doesn't look at her, eyes straying to the poorly lit cage in the corner – and ah, not yet, darling, we're all waiting for a chance to dine at that feast – until she cages his hand in hers.

He considers her words, the sly, upward curve of her mouth. A man grunts in the near-distance and the low rumble of laughter follows. "I do," he admits.

"Then _curate_ for me," she says as she lowers their entwined hands between them. He nods again stiffly but his heart flutters at her words. He clenches his hand once before he gently leads her around the warehouse.

They'd had to drive three hours upstate to arrive here. It's snowing outside, cold enough Vanessa's wearing the fur he bought her on a visit to St. Petersburg, but she wears nothing but silk and gold now. It's deliciously warm and the space well-furnished. Low crimson and aubergine lighting, velvet chairs next to several cages. Waitstaff in minimalist black offer wine and champagne, brandy and vodka.

Their hosts always have immaculate taste when knowing how to best show their wares.

"I want him," he hears a man growl to his right. Both Vanessa and Wilson look at the man speaking fiercely into his cell. There's something manic to the way his brows ruche, and Wilson shakes his frenetic energy away.

He guides Vanessa to stainless steel table where a simple but elegantly cut USB drive sits. "The names and location of every Interpol agent are archive on this bad boy," the woman who sits next to it says. Wilson nods, but with one hand to the small of Vanessa's back, leads her away. "Of course it isn't, but it helps to have something to show," he whispers into his ear, breath grazing across her neck.

"And not quite right to settle your appetite," Vanessa adds. Wilson nods. They continue to make their way through the large space, stopping here and there to see weapons, both steel and flesh. One woman with red full lips gives Vanessa pause, and Wilson enjoys the way her breath stutters a little when she meets her gaze.

"She's been mind-wiped and is dynamite with a blade," her agent says. Wilson's intrigued enough to ask more questions until the woman's shark-smile slips. There's a commotion behind them.

"Excuse me," Wilson says out of politeness but he's already turning. There are four men – four men carrying a man by his wrists and ankles into the empty cage. From this angle, Wilson can only make out the dark black of his pants, his shirt... his mask.

"It can't be," Vanessa says in wonder.

The Devil has been missing for three weeks. 

And here he is.

Wilson and Vanessa both take carefully even steps to approach the cage. A crowd is already forming to watch as the men throw the Devil to the ground. He lands like a leopard with a broken wrist, predatory but wounded.

"Those are cock-sucking lips," a man says to his right. The comment stills Wilson. He's never looked at the man as anything but a nuisance, and, after time, an adversary.

This. This is the man as a tool. As an object. With only his lips exposed, cherry red from a hint of blood – damaged property should lower the price, Vanessa would say – against dark stubble, Wilson finds he agrees.

"What are they doing?" Vanessa asks, a trill of excitement makes her voice lower, aroused.

He sees the hose and knows. "They're going to... incapacitate him. They will make a show of it."

The Devil turns his head to the side at a canted angle, his mouth ticks downward before he jumps to the left right before the water hits. A heavy stream that will sting, will turn the skin under all that black, pink and raw.

They play with him, cat and mouse, but there's not enough room for the Devil to maneuver away from the stream forever and he's hit hard, his feet coming out from under him.

"Get him on his knees, that's right," the man next to him cheers. More laughter from the crowd, and then, "I want to see his face."

There's a pulse of silence, of union between the crowd at these words.

"Leave that to me, ladies and gentleman," their host says as he walks next to the cage where the Devil still lays panting on the ground, one hand resting against the side of his face. The host smiles serenely before he pulls out a sedative. "I wanted you all to see just how alive and talented our star merchandise was before offering you, gratis, the coup de grace."

"Shall we begin?"


End file.
